


Doggy Treats and Quickies in the Baseball Dugout

by daddykink (halogenharry)



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Dog Walking, Fluff, M/M, Theft, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 00:20:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3629661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halogenharry/pseuds/daddykink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some ginger keeps walking his dogs by Mickey's house at the crack of dawn. Not that Mickey cares or anything. It's not like he noticed his sharp jawline or that his eyes are sometimes like two mini oceans and at other times are the color of the sky on a clear day or the way his back muscles ripple as he stretches under the hot sun. He also did not steal a dog just so he could walk with this boy to strike up a chat with him.</p><p>Mickey Milkovich most definitely didn't give a shit about this kid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doggy Treats and Quickies in the Baseball Dugout

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this post on tumblr:  
> i saw you walking your pet and i thought you were pretty hot so i decided to get a pet so i can walk with you and strike up a conversation

Everyday was another boring, pointless day to Mickey. Usually the next day ran into the next. He would wake up, eat whatever he finds, drink a few beers, maybe scope out the neighborhood, watch some stupid show, pass out and repeat. It was boring, useless and mundane just like everything had always been. He felt no need for any change in the routine unless he felt exceptionally antsy or his family had someone on their shit list. Mickey didn't care, though. He had no desire for change and the routine worked. Mandy always tried to drag him out of bed to "join the human race" as she put it, but after a few nipple twists, she would be out of his hair and he'd be back to sleep. 

 

The first day of summer was coming around, Mickey could tell, and the heat in their house nearly became unbearable as did his Dad (who liked to walk around naked more and more the hotter it got, God help them all). But the thing about the heat for Mickey was the hotter it got, the later he slept to avoid being out in it. Besides, the best time to be out on the town was after 5; the bars are at their best, people aren't as likely to piss him off because it's cooler and the city as whole was, simply put, better (probably because you can't really see the city at night).

 

Point is, Mickey loved the summer and he loved sleeping in during the summer and anyone getting in the way of that wanted a death wish.

 

Early in the morning on what felt like Thursday, Mickey was still sprawled out on his bed with a light snore escaping him. No one had bothered him yet and he liked it that way. His dreams were extremely vivid, the type of dreams that you wake up from remembering every detail and wondering if it actually happened. This one was so good that if anyone were to wake him up, he'd bust their skull against the pavement. And of course, following that Murphy's law shit he heard Lip Gallagher going on about one day, somebody's dog started barking right outside his window. It wasn't just one small dog, though; first it was a big dog, then two dogs, then an entire orchestra of various dogs all barking directly outside his window.  _Who the fuck has so many dogs?_ Mickey groggily lifted his head as he pondered over the question. His eyes took a few seconds to adjust as the sun shined in his eyes before they landed on the back of some red head, who was the culprit for this disturbance, Mickey assumed. The boy appeared to be bent over, talking to the dogs as if they would speak back to him. Normally Mickey would ignore a kid like this, but the ruckus was unbearable. 

 

Mickey got himself out of bed, left his room and went out onto the front porch to see this kid up close. "Hey, uh, bloodsuckerhead. Got enough dogs?" The kid finished giving the dog he was babying his treat and looked over his shoulder before straightening up to his full height.

 

"Nah, I was hoping for a few more. Ya know, make my own pack to defend my honor."

 

The kid was surprisingly cute, not what Mickey expected from a kid who spent his free time talking to dogs in front of his house. His skin looked smooth, his jaw was sharp and his tank top showed off his toned arms. Mickey was almost taken aback by the looks of this kid and a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, but he quickly recovered to retort, "You think you're funny, fire crotch?" 

 

The boy shrugged. "By the looks of that little twitch of your lips, I'm assuming you do, but you want to keep your intimidating tough guy rep going, right?" One of the dogs jumped up against the boys leg and he catered to it, scratching behind his ears. 

 

"Don't flatter yourself, kid. Now are you gonna get away from my lawn or do I have to make you, fire crotch?" 

 

The boy's eyes pierced through him as he looked at him for what felt like eternity. Mickey even thought he saw his eyes flick down as if he were giving him a once over. The boy adjusted the leashes in his hand as he replied, "No need, I was just leaving." He started on his way down the street, but just when Mickey thought he was out of his hair, the boys turned around and called, "M'name's Ian, by the way. You know, for if we see each other again." 

 

Ian. What a good name, it was nice, short and easy to moan (not that Mickey was thinking about what it would be like to moan his name; he didn't give a shit about this kid).

 

Mickey rolled his eyes and shrugged. "Whatever you say, fire crotch." He turned to go back into the house and resume his slumber, but the kid wouldn't give up. 

 

"And who are you, short stuff?"

 

Mickey paused with one foot in his house. This game was getting fun even though Ian's remarks needed work. "Short stuff is the  _best_ you could come up with? Shit, fire crotch, that's pathetic."

 

Ian scratched the back of his neck and made a little half smile that was so cute, Mickey felt his stomach do a small flip. "I was put on the spot, ok? Anyway, are you gonna answer or not? What's ya name?"

 

Carelessly, Mickey stated, "Mickey."

 

Ian nodded. Mickey. What a cute name for such a cute boy. Before he left, he called, "See you later, Mickey."

 

Mickey rolled his eyes and went into the house. To his surprise, his sister, Mandy, was standing there waiting for him. She eyed him carefully as he walked past her to his room (and Mickey prayed to the imaginary man upstairs that he wasn't blushing at all). "Who was that?" Mandy asked, but Mickey blew her off because he knew by the look on her face that she had heard everything, but he didn't care. It's not like Mickey cared about the kid. He was cute and all, but Mickey wasn't go drool over some kid likes to walk dogs into his spare time and wake him up with his stupid hobby. Hell, after that day's meeting there was a chance he wouldn't take the same route again. Well, Mickey hoped he wouldn't. But Mickey wasn't blind and he knew fire crotch would be back in the morning. His remarks didn't even seem to phase the kid which was surprising, but something about his reactions intrigued Mickey. And even more so, in the deep depths of his mind he was thinking about what it might be like to take it up the ass from him. 

 

Not that anyone, including Ian, needed to know that. 

 

 *                           *                           *                            *                           *

 

The next few days went exactly the same. Ian would come by with a pack of dogs, Mickey would go out to have a talk with him and Ian would leave when Mickey got bored (which was only half the truth because really he was bored with what they were doing but not of Ian). Mickey wanted to change things up, but he had no idea how. If he simply walked with him it may give Ian and the whole neighborhood the impression he's taking a liking to him. But he couldn't go on with how things were. Mickey wanted more, he wanted change, he wanted to hear Ian talk about all the things he liked and whatever else just as long as he was talking. 

 

As Ian walked away on the third day, Mickey heard a dog bark behind him. Of course he assumed it was one of Ian's daily mutts, but when he turned around and realized Ian was nearly to end of the block, Mickey searched around for where the disturbance could be coming from. His eyes finally landed on the house diagonally across the street from him where he saw a dog jumping around as if he wanted to hop the fence.

 

And then, a brilliant plan formulated itself in his head.

 

 *                           *                           *                            *                           *

 

Under all of the useless piles of stuff filling his house, Mickey managed to find an old alarm clock that seemed to still have some tick left in it. He set it for 7:30 which was approximately 20 minutes before Ian usually showed up. The plan was to wake, get some clothes on, leave and scope out of the fence/area he'd be taking the down from and then the plan for a leash will come after all of that. 

 

Waking up to an alarm turned out to be horrible, the obnoxious ringing right next to his head and giving a headache he would be feeling the rest of the day. But Mickey didn't care all that much seeing as a bit of head pain was pretty usual. He threw on some clothes, anything he could find that didn't look too bad, and headed out on to their front porch after he stole two of Mandy's pizza bagels and a beer from the table. Mickey downed the beer and threw the can onto his front lawn. His street was practically dead at this hour except for the few homeless guys who liked to wander through. But Mickey liked it this way, made the whole thing easier from stealing the dog to talking to the kid and worrying someone might see him. His eye landed on a leash hanging over the fence as he crossed street which made Mickey chuckle. It was as if they were begging someone to steal the puppy from their yard. And since Mickey was all about helping his neighbors out, he leashed the dog up and made his way back to his home a few minutes before Ian came down the block. 

 

As he walked up, Mickey knelt down to act as if he was adjusting the dog's collar. He glanced up at Ian a few times just in time to see him raise an eyebrow. "Since when do you have a dog?" He inquired, stopping as Mickey stood back up. 

 

Mickey shrugged. "A few years, but we never really got around to taking him out. Seeing you with your dogs made me think about taking him out more. Ya know, show him the neighborhood."

 

Ian seemed leery ab out the story Mickey was trying to feed him, but clearly didn't feel like calling him out on it. Not bothering to wait for a response, Mickey turned away and took off down the block. Ian quickly caught and countered him, "First off, these aren't my dogs. I'm this as a summer job. And secondly, if you've had him for years then why have you never walked him before? Or let him out?" 

 

It sounded odd and Mickey knew that especially by the concerned look that took over Ian's features, but he kept a straight face. He wasn't going to let some ginger who keeps waking him up early in the morning throw him off. Mickey turned his head to look at Ian as he spoke but that was quickly proven to be a bad idea. Ian's profile was breathtaking, sharp and chiseled. His lips were thin, but were stuck a little in a slight pout that made them look kind of kissable. Now, Mickey knew he was attracted to guys, but never before had he really acted on it because he knew his dad would kill him. But right then he wanted to grab Ian by his collar and kiss him for the whole street to see. It would be strictly hormone-driven, one of those hot kisses that make you feel like you're on the surface of the sun and despite the heat, you can't get enough of the body to body contact and the taste of their lips.  

 

Mickey felt a bead of sweat roll down his neck as his thoughts spiraled into uncharted territory. Quickly, Mickey cracked his neck and said as calmly as possibly, "Who the fuck are you? The dog police. I'm outta here."

 

And with a slight blush on his cheeks, Mickey turned and walked back down the block to his house, leaving a dumbfounded Ian to stare after him.

**Author's Note:**

> My twitter is @zjmbrendon!


End file.
